I did not write many of these stories - I contributed to a site that went down several years ago, and I am attempting to bring back the stories to the Internet for others to view and receive pleasure from. Enjoy!

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Midsummerday's dream

by Tinker, December 1993

It happened while I was walking through the city center with a girlfriendduring a nice, but not too hot summer day in August. We had been visitingsome friends and decided to walk back to her place where I had left my car(we had gone to our friends by bus, since parking is just next toimpossible in the city center). On the way home, we had got something todrink at a nice terrace at the market square (too expensive for theservice, of course) and now we crossed a beautiful park area, with theusual lawns, pools, ducks and children running around. It was then that sheturned to me and said: "Shit, I should have gone to the bathroom at thatplace on the market".

Of course I casually remarked: "Well, this place isn't exactly fitted for apee, is it?" while looking around and seeing everybody running around withno sheltered spot anywhere near. She nodded and added: "Still, I've to go*bad*. Where is the nearest pub?" Unfortunately for her, the closest placewhere we could possibly find a public bathroom was the market place,fifteen minutes behind us. Stupid cities with all action concentrated inone place and the rest being only offices and houses. And parks of course.

We decided to go on and try to reach her house, which was still ten minutesor so to go. After one more minute of walking, she suddenly went off thepath and crossed the lawn towards a few bushes. "Sorry, I'll try it here. I*really* need to pee", she said. Looking for a spot where she couldsuccessfully squat down without being noticed, she almost ran around thebushes only to find a children's playground at the other side. Rather angryshe came back to me. "Grrr who has designed this park. They should forcehim to wet his pants," she mumbled, and I could notice that she crossed herthighs under her wide skirt.

I wanted to try something. "Well, maybe this park was designed by a woman,you know. Back in the fifties or so, when almost every woman still woreskirts. Like you do now." She lifted her eyebrows and looked at me. "What'sthat to do with the absence of public toilets where they should be?", sheasked. Then the suddenly understood and frowned. "Oh yeah, well, youmean...". I shrugged. "Yes. Nobody will notice. I will, but I don't mind atall. Just go ahead, there's nobody close and no one approaching right now."

She sighed and looked down to her white summer skirt that reached down tojust below her knees. She couldn't help still crossing her thighs and noweven pressing her hands in her crotch. "I don't have much choice, do I?Jesus, if I don't do it myself, I will be wet within a minute anyway. Shit.What a stupid move of me." That said, she left the path and walked onto thegrass. She looked aside, to me again, and slightly pulled up her skirt. "Doyou think I can squat without people noticing?" Before I could answer, abunch of yelling children came in from the opposite corner of the park andmy friend shook her head herself. "Nope. Forget about that. Damned, I'lllook like a three-year-old girl."

Then she stepped out of her slippers, walked for a meter on bare feetthrough the grass, stopped, and parted her legs a little. Her wide skirteffectively hid this pose and from a distance of more than ten metersnobody would see anything strange. To cover her up even more, I decided togo down on one knee and started to re-tie my shoelace. It appeared that shenow was waiting for me to finish with my unwilling shoe lace. "Go ahead", Isaid. "Just enjoy it." She looked at me with a mix of embarassment and asmile. "Please, don't tell anybody, okay?" I nodded. She cleared herthroat. "Alright then. Shit. Shit. Shit." Her hands grabbed her skirt,shook it loosely over her legs, and I noticed that she casually reachedthrough her skirt to the waistband of her panties to pull them up firmly.Looking around to the people, she pulled the skirt away from the front ofher panties, let it carefully fall down again, reached behind her to checkthat her skirt was not hanging between her legs, and then spread her legs alittle more. "Okay. There we go, for god's sake."

She looked to her crotch and breathed deeply. Then she slowly released hermuscles. I saw her pull her belly a bit inward and bite her lip when herpee flowed into her panties. She let her breath escape through her teethand obviously felt foolish. But the relief was so big that it took overwithin seconds. Together with a quite satisfied expression on her face, thepee started to drip down between her legs. It became a stream, and then aneven bigger stream. When she was in full swing, she giggled and lookedfoolishly at me. "Now, how do I look like? Wrong! Eighteen years older!"Still peeing, she casually looked around and saw nobody nearer than fiftymeters. Casually she put a hand in her skirt's left pocket. "Well, afterall, this isn't so bad. It is only my panties. And it is a warm day,anyway." She looked to the sky. "Besides, it is not an unpleasant feeling."Rapidly correcting herself, se added: "That is, now my panties are wet, itdoesn't matter anymore, does it?" I rose to my two feet again and told herI thought it indeed didn't matter at all. I also told her that I reallyliked seeing her standing with her legs a bit apart, wearing a skirt, andthoroughly wetting her panties. She looked away and blushed. "Really? Well,at least that will keep you from making fun out of me."

Then the stream died away and she quickly bend her knees, crossed her thighsand in this half-squatting position she squeezed her panties as well as shecould. A last gush of pee trickled onto the ground. She straightened herback again, turned around, picked up her slippers and continued her walk onthe path with me. On the way back, we didn't talk anymore about whathappened, and she only three times grabbed her skirt to make sure it didn'ttouch her panties.

Within ten minutes we reached her home. While I sat down and picked up ahifi magazine, she went upstairs and I expected to hear her rumbling aboutin the bathroom. To my amazement I heard her coming back down within half aminute. When I looked up from the magazine, she stood right in front of me,legs slightly apart, wearing a very short white sports skirt instead of herlong one. She said nothing, just looked at me. I stared to her indisbelief. We were friends, but had no relation. I had seen her in shortskirts before, but never so clearly challenging. "Still wearing the samepanties?", I asked, knowing that she just had not had the time to changethem and dry herself. In answer she came closer and just said: "Look foryourself." Putting down my magazine, I reached for the hem of her skirtand slowly I lifted it with both hands. It reveiled light-blue plainpanties, just below her waist, sporting a dark stain centered in her crotchand spreading around for about fifteen centimeters, While she still stoodthere, I got out of the chair and lifted up her skirt from behind. Samestory. I just said "Wow!".

Then she turned around and told me to follow while she entered the garden.Arrived there, she squatted down and clearly made preparations to pee herpanties again. Now I couldn't hold myself any longer. "Please, stop it fora moment. Can I join you?" Playing she was shocked, she looked up to me."Just join me? Right as you stand there? C'me on, you won't get away with asoaked pair of jeans." But she rose to her feet and directed me into thehouse again. "Wait here. I'll get you what you need." Hurrying up thestairs, she clearly showed her wet panties under her skirt. Almost as if Iknew what was coming, I started to take off my shoes, socks, and jeans.Just as I put them on a chair, now only being dressed in a shirt and myunderwear, reveiling an undeniable bulge in my pants, she dashed down againand gigglingly handed me one of her tiny skirts. It was a very simplemodel, just a band of fabric of about thirty centimeters with an elasticwaistband. I slipped it on. The skirt covered my underwear enough to beuseful, and since it was all but tight, my bulge dissapeared completely. Mygirlfriend circled me and giggled again. "It does not fit you. You have nohips, and those furry legs really seem silly. Still, it will do." Sheentered the garden again and I followed her like in a dream.

Arrived where she wanted to be, she turned and took my hands in hers.Standing about a meter from eachother, we spread our legs, wider this time,and waited. I felt a great urge to pee, but wanted to see her reaction.After ten seconds, she said: "Well, now you know how it feels, standing inthe open and knowing that someone watches you while you are going to peeyour panties." I smiled. "Are you ready? I am." She nodded. "Yes, I am."She winked with her left eye. "Now?" As an answer I looked down towards myskirt, held my breath, and carefully let go some pee. I felt my underweareagerly absorb it as it touched the fabric. I peed some more. Then I lookedmy friend straight into her eyes and told her I'd wet myself. Quickly shelifted my skirt with her right hand and checked. When she saw the stainedfront of my pants, she smiled and let the skirt fall down again. Then sheput both her arms in her sides and threw her long hair over her shoulderwith a rapid head movement. She looked down to her own skirt and I heard asoft, hissing sound. While she carefully peed her panties again, I liftedher skirt for the second time and watched the pee as it surged through thefabric, making the blue panties seem like interwoven with silver threads inthe bright sunlight. The stream soon soaked the panties again, and findingno way out, gradually trickled down onto the ground.

With a groan, I let myself go, and soon my whole crotch felt warm andmoist, while a steady stream flowed from under my skirt between my legsonto the grass. Now my girlfriend suddenly reached under my arms forward tomy skirt, lifted it above my waist, and thereby pushing my arms higher, sothat I lifted her skirt altogether as well. For one second, she gazed at myunderwear, showing a completely stained front and a big bulge with peeflowing around it. Then, she came closer, and pushed her crotch againstmine. Her hands let go of my skirt and grabbed my ass, pulling my wetunderwear tightly against her wet panties. I still peed, and she must havefelt that. She peed as well, and I sure as hell felt that. While stillpeeing, she started to move rhythmically with her hips, and I could nothingbut follow her lambada. We stood there for thirty seconds, peeing ourpanties and firmly pushing our crotches together. We didn't kiss. Then Ifelt another function taking over in my abdomen. I started to push backharder, and she immediately reacted. It took us five more seconds to reachthe point of no return. She closed her eyes and groaned. I slipped my handsunder her skirt and firmly squeezed her wet buttocks. Then I came. Myfriend let out a high-pitched squeek and shuddered over all her body. Shetook fifteen seconds to complete the orgasm.

We held eachother for quite a time. Then, we stepped back a little, so thatour skirts fell down properly. We both did not feel at all like taking themoff or changing our underwear. Instead, she entered the house to make sometea and I sat down on a garden chair, careful to pull up my skirt first.Amazingly, the front of my skirt still was still completely unstained. Wesat there, drinking tea and casually letting something find its way out,for the rest of the day, until sunset forced us inside to prevent ourbladders from catching cold. Because, as she said, it was nice to wetyourself when you could get away with it so easily, but sadly that was notalways the case. I could nothing but agree.

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Camilla's Comments

Back in 1993, I started writing erotica. I found a woman named Susan who ran an adult site, and to drive traffic to her site, she posted other people's stories. I was one of her contributors. The site died out, but I did not want these stories to die out as well. Here is my attempt to save these erotic stories. I will not edit them, other than to take out double-spaces. And I will attribute the stories as they were attributed on the now defunct adult site. Some of the stories had links to erotic pictures, though I am not sure that these pictures are of the people who wrote the stories. Probably a ploy to drive traffic and increase arousal - not necessarily a bad thing.

Some of the stories are disturbing to me, but in the interest of preserving online erotica, I will publish them as well. Because of the volume of online erotica that was once housed at this site, I may not read all stories I post. Some of the erotica is well-written, some is poorly written (with spelling errors, grammatical errors, etc). I will not edit these stories, as I want to preserve the original authors words as closely as I can. And I plan to post every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.